Chapter 18 · The Door Her Mother Left

"Mara, don't—" Adrian grabbed my wrist before I could touch the wall.

"That's my mother."

"That's what it wants you to think." His grip tightened. "The black key doesn't replay memories. It builds them."

The voice came again, muffled, desperate. "Mara, please. I don't have much time."

I yanked free. "Let go."

"Look at me." He stepped between me and the wall. "How many times did your mother say your name when she was scared?"

I froze.

"Never, right?" His eyes locked on mine. "She used to call you something else."

My throat closed. He was right. Mom never said my name when things went bad. She'd always said—

"Little lock." The words barely made it out.

Adrian nodded. "So ask her."

I turned back to the wall. My hand hovered over the cold brick. "Mom?"

Silence.

"Mom, what did you call me?"

Nothing. Then a different voice, sharper, annoyed. "What kind of question is that? Mara, open the damn door."

Adrian's hand found my shoulder. "There's your answer."

I pressed my palm flat against the brick. The surface was ice-cold, wrong. "Where's the real door?"

"Somewhere close.